


Wyvern

by fichuntie



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Magic, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 18:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17126294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fichuntie/pseuds/fichuntie
Summary: Harrow settled on the bed, enjoying the sight of Viren so eager and plaint. As stubborn as the man was, his submission was clear when the two were alone. Long nights had proved that Viren would whine to fall over his king’s knees after hours of argument over strategy. The way only his king saw him.





	Wyvern

“Do you remember when we did this back on the border?” Viren asked.

Harrow did: he remembered Viren drunk on the power of star magic and himself on the bloodlust of protecting the kingdom. He remembered how they retreated to their shared tent after battle: the scent of the lamp oil and camp dust along with the burnt tang of Viren’s magic and lust. How they’d tumbled together, hard and fast over the pallet, barely bothering with the laces of jacket and buckles of armor to get at each other. How Viren’s kisses poured power into him before battles. Even now, his cock twitched at the memories. 

Viren smiled at him, the same smirk he wore when dictating a new strategy. Conceited and proud with his rugged beard. Traitorous, his cock thickened at the ghost of sensation of coarse beard on his thighs. He remembered also Viren’s obsessive hunger, bloodlust turned to lust after stumbling on a wyvern nest, the bright gray of speckled eggs and Viren’s eyes. Proud and easily willing to commit men to death for strategy. 

“We made mistakes then…” Harrow sighed, his deep green eyes dark with the memories.

“Was I a mistake?” Viren’s dry voice rasped over the question.

Harrow reached out to him, placing his hand with signet ring on Viren’s shoulder. 

“Of course not, Viren,” Harrow admitted. “You were my most loyal friend and more. We would not have triumphed against the dragons without your service. The kingdom is grateful for you.”

Viren nuzzled his head against the hand. His gray eyes peered up, the hint of the same grin teasing his mouth. “And is the king as grateful?”

Harrow laughed. “Yes, your king is pleased,” he brushed his hand against Viren’s cheek. 

Viren nipped at his fingers. He showed off the pink wetness of his mouth, the tongue that could chant down the castle walls or curl around the king’s cock. His teeth bore down, harder than just teasing on Harrow’s fingers. These same teeth have broken apart gryphin flesh to unleash terror on the eastern plains. 

“You are too presumptuous,” Harrow said. He grasped Viren’s chin, firm hold with his sword calloused fingers on the soft anterior of his neck. 

“I am a lord now, at my king’s leisure. I’m meant to be sumptuous.” Viren was: cosseted in expensive fabrics up to his high collar. The contrast of the gritty boy he’d been in the early years of the border conflicts to now was startling. 

Harrow felt the words vibrate against his hand. He squeezed a little. “I’ve granted you that title. How will you honor me as a lord?”

Viren’s pupils dilated, dark and wide. He sank down to his knees, slow enough that Harrow kept his grip, and let his hands stroke down the other man’s thighs. Not as graceful as he used to be with his injured leg, Viren settled his knee carefully on the plush rug. He tangled his fingers in the leather lacings. 

“With service and magic,” he whispered against Harrow’s waist. “Charms of protection and power. Amulets to bring rains for good harvest and fair winters.” His eyes are fierce, deep ocean black, and his voice crackles with power. The words drip in his ear like wyvern poison, thickening his arousal. Harrow’s palm moved with the slow swallow, permissive. “I submit myself to your service.”

“Let’s try something simple first,” Harrow dragged his hands through Viren’s short hair. “Undress me.”

Viren did. Half with his hands and half with magic. Harrow felt fur and scales on skin as the clothes disappear with a murmured word. Whatever Viren ate to get the power, the animal brushed quickly unlike Viren’s hands which lingered against his legs, pushing down the soft leather. The clothes appeared folded atop the cedar chest. Harrow slid his hands up to tangle in the chestnut hair to keep Viren forward from kissing his hip. 

“What a good lordling,” he said. Viren smiled up at him. His eyes were pitch black but they sparkled with the starlight and eagerness. 

“Undress and get on the bed,” Harrow ordered. Viren’s less careful with his own clothes and crawled onto the bed in a second. His eager motions and bobbing cock made his submission clear, even if he was slow clambering over the wooden side boards to get onto the four poster bed. 

Harrow took his own time. He banked the fire, tapping the sun charm on the mantle. Unselfconsciously, he looked down on the pale split across his bed. Viren was set off against the dark wood of the headboard, varnished deeper than his brown hair, and the rich red of the blankets which drew Harrow’s gaze to his flushed cheeks and red cock. The pale underbelly of him heaved. Harrow settled on the bed. Viren wriggled a little with an enticing grin. Harrow tweaked a nipple, wanting to see the flush spread. 

“In my service you are bound to me.”

The pale gray irises contracted as the magic faded. Viren slithered his shoulders, pressed his collar bones against Harrow’s roaming hands. He pushed him back down, thumb in the divot of his clavicle, fingers brushing against his stubble. His other hand slid down to pinch a nipple, already hard with excitement. 

“You are to do as you are ordered, by the power of the crown, every word of magic by command.” 

Harrow settled on the bed, enjoying the sight of Viren so eager and plaint. As stubborn as the man was, his submission was clear when the two were alone. Long nights had proved that Viren would whine to fall over his king’s knees after hours of argument over strategy. The way only his king saw him. 

“You won’t act or move or come without the permission of the king. Do you understand?”

Pupils dilated, Viren nodded.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, King Harrow,” he said. 

Harrow pushed his uninjured leg up against his stomach. He stared down at him. With his leg pressed against his ventral scales like a jiaolong, Viren’s twitching cock could be seen and the tight balls below and further down his entrance: pink and slick. He pinched again at the nipple just to watch the sensation slither down Viren’s body and make his hole tighten. Sizzling feeling zapped through Harrows arm from where he pushed his fingers into Viren, like lightning; he always lost control of his magic when distracted with sensation. His fingers slid in easily, Viren already oil slick between his ass cheeks. 

“You opened yourself up for me. Were you so sure of yourself?” Harrow said. He pushed his two fingers in deep. “Impertinent.” In the captured sunlight, Harrow saw how easily Viren’s body opened. The tingling excitement was hard to separate from the star magic seeping through his fingers. 

A smug grin, “Very pertinent to you fucking me now.”

Harrow laughed, pouncing on him for a kiss because if he heard any more of Viren’s dry humor he’ll get distracted. 

“I’ll fuck you now, “ Harrow growled. 

It was not like the slow lovemaking out in the fields after a picnic, where they’d sprawled out and Viren had murmured chants of earth runes as he fingered Harrow open on the rich dirt. Viren wasn’t the same sun warm man he was then, almost hale as Harrow and flush in color with exertion. This was already charged - fast and wild with hungry intent. He felt as if has some sallow hungry creature in his bed, the way Viren gasps and tears the sheets. 

Harrow heard the rhythmic clinking of the gold cuffs in his braids as he thrust hard. He saw the pale impressions of his grip on Viren’s hips, the fading white marks of fingertips made more stark with the red sheets below. Sweat damp, Viren slid with each thrust and rolled his hips down to meet him.


End file.
